Night covered the city, hiding the activities of deadly criminals, poisoned drunks and shadowing the secret passion of forbidden lovers in midnight shade. Soft, skilful fingers glided down the curve of his back, igniting a fire in the pools of his lions and making the blood rushing through pumping veins start to boil.
Black robes shed from his form, Altair smoothed the pad of his fingers down the naked flesh of Malik's spine. Bare skin against bare skin, an intoxicating feel that made Altair dizzy with delight. Malik cried out under him, curling upward in a graceful arch. The built up muscle on the back of his shoulders flexed, making the crescent moon stamp of Altair's teeth appear dark in the dim candle light.
Altair moved his heels, his toes bunching in the cotton of his black robes. The steel blade of a sword dragged against the stone floor, screeching in protest and making eardrums shrivel. Bending forward, a sweat damped forehead rested between hot shoulders. Limbs hung, lifeless and lazy like lizards in the hot desert sun. Fingers weaved together like thick ribbons. Breath; ragged like a panting dogs, but as harmonious like the subtle swish of waves lapping against dock of Acre.
Moonlight traced a silver line around their joined bodies, illuminating tiny pathways into the deepest parts of their beings. Altair closed his eyes; come sunrise he would leave for Masyaf, but this time, he would not return alone.